For the past couple of months I've just been livin' the dream. How can you argue with free food, no rent, and no job? The problem is, I'm starting to get too comfortable. I'd like to think I can pull off a lot of things, but being a 24 year old adult child might be universally upsetting. I'm starting to remind myself of Chazz from Wedding Crashers more and more everyday. Also my brothers have given me the lovely nickname “MEATLOAF” – if that isn’t embarrassing and sad, I’m not sure what is. On top of all of that I’m starting to get bored. Really bored. So, I've come to terms with the fact that I need to finally get a job. SIGH..

HOWEVER there is one slight problem: I cannot physically get a job to save my life. Upon hearing this, most people don’t believe me and assume I’m just a lazy, drunk, girl who doesn’t try. Which is only half true. Name a non-profit, marketing firm, media company, law firm, college, gallery, museum or private company and I guarantee you, I’ve applied there. I have written an encyclopedia’s worth of bullshit cover letters sent out with my resume and haven’t gotten even one preliminary interview. Who do I have to blow around here to get an interview??? Because as God as my witness, I will! (Not really.. I'm being a little dramatic)

AND By the way, I find it irritating when people tell you not to freak out because you haven’t been looking for a job that long. Not only is their entire point condescending, but they say it in this horribly judgmental way where you end up feeling like a complete asshole for being understandably stressed out: (the following is a phone conversation I had with a sorority sister this morning)
Me: Oh man, I’ve been looking for a job for a while now, I feel like I’m never going to get one.
Friend: Umm Ann, you’ve only been looking for a job for a couple of months. That’s really not that long at all. Some people have been looking for years. It’s really not a big deal.
Me: Oh good call. I’m such a p*ssy for being freaked out that I can’t buy my own food or afford to pay rent in a radically declining economy…My bad!!

…You know what? Call me when you lie about where you’re going at night because at the age of 24, you still need your parent’s permission to go out, and then we’ll talk. In the mean time, shut your pie-hole.

MOVING ON .. today I went to a million different doctor appointments. For some unknown reason I decided to schedule THREE ONE DAY. I mean, if I had spread them out I would at least have something to do for a few days. God that's a sad (but totally true) statement. Anyway, I went to a new doctor today because my homie retired and referred me to this nice Indian man. Little did I know he was going to make me spill my heart/soul/deepest darkest secrets. Walk with me...

Before my exam the Dr. asked me the standard first visit questions; "what medications do you take, any family history of diabetes or heart disease, blah blah..." But then the following conversation literally takes place:
Dr.: And do you smoke cigarettes?
Me: Nope.
Dr.: Do you drink?
Me: Yep.
Dr.: Do you take recreational drugs?
Me: Uh, no.
Dr.: Let me rephrase this for you, do you take recreational drugs? And yes Ms. this does include marijuana and cocaine. (gives glaring look)
Me: Right, so no.
Dr.: (heavily sighs) Listen, I'm not a police officer, I don't care, I just need to know for medical reasons. Do you smoke marijuana or snort cocaine?
Me: Uhhh well I'ver never done coke, but...umm...I don't know, yea I guess I smoke marijuana. Sometimes. I mean I have. But like, I'm not like, a pothead or anything. I don't really...
Dr.: How frequently do you smoke this marijuana?
Me: Ummmm...Uhh...well I mean, I don't buy really, like if it's there and other people are smoking, then game on, but like I don't have a dealer or anything--not here at least, my brother has some connections at his school but nothing too frequent. It's just like a social thing, but I guess that doesn't justify doing drugs...but umm...
Dr.: (deadpan, cold eyes staring through me) That's enough.

WTF?! I never knew a small Indian man with a thick accent and no hair could make me act so unbelievably awkward and truthful when really his question just warranted a simple "NO." I just rambled on and on and I couldn't stop, and the more I rambled the deeper his brow furrowed and the more nervous and honest I got. I called my mom and told her this story when I got home and she said "Well...looking at you, people are going to assume some things." Huh? I'm currently wearing a Banana Republic dress, not hemp pants with an oversized Bob Marley T-shirt.

UGH... I decided I needed a little inspiration. I AM AWESOME. I AM NOT A DRUG ADDICT. I AM A NICE NORMAL GIRL. And then i found it THIS IS EXACTLY what I need to do. I think if I could just copy and record my own "Impossible is the Opposite of Possible" word for word I’d be good to go. Right? Not only would it would help me get a job but I could watch it daily to make me feel better. So I'd like to say thank you Michael Cera for being hilarious and adorable and for reminding me that as rough as life seems, there's no reason for me to act like an emo 12-year-old boy who didn't get a date to a junior high school dance. LIFE IS GOOD


APA